When I do arrive home here at the beach I am still a little amazed that I am getting to do this. I am very grateful for a job that allows me the funds. I am more grateful to Salty for letting me scratch an itch that was too strong to be ignored. I also have to stop and thank my son and daughter in law for the loan of the tiny beach house on wheels.
We are on the bay side of Crystal beach. You might remember a few years ago Hurricane Ike just about wiped the Bolivar Peninsula off the face of the map. The people here are tough and have done a good job
of reclaiming their community. The bay side is very quiet, almost rural. I awake each morning to a rooster crowing but have not yet pin-pointed where he is.
The view out the "backyard" is really breathtaking in the morning and the evenings. It is cool, the breeze blows really soft and the air just smells clean. There are often large boats and barges passing us on the
Intercoastal canal. When it is foggy, they make a really forlorn sound..."booooonnnnnng", warning everyone they are coming.
There is a small fishing or crabbing deck that the residents of the park can use. I have just visited with others as they pursue these interests. When crabbing one must leave chicken out for several days to have it be at the height of smelly perfection. Just one whiff of it brought back younger days at Roll Over pass crabbing with my parents and siblings. Crabbing is an art, and we were pretty good at it...most days.
In the morning I often step outside to one or more of these brave little crabs, pinchers outstretched to do battle with the giant. I always wonder if they are lost and should I catch it and throw it back in the water?
I guess, like me, the little crab is on an adventure and wants to see where it is going. I watch it crawl sideways, away from me and wish it well. After all, who am I, to stop an adventure?
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